


Face painter

by primesjive



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: AU, M/M, Modern Setting, all fluff, and indeed have had an encounter with a face painter that inspired this, brian and rog are the same age here like 19ish, contains a brief mention of clogs, i basically am brian in other words, once again AU as fuck, roger is a hottie obvi, summer carnival?, that will only make sense if you've read my other queen fic, the fics aren't related i just enjoy writing brian as awkward af, the return of shy brian!, what even is this idk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-14 04:40:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17501747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/primesjive/pseuds/primesjive
Summary: Roger's a volunteer face painter at the town carnival and Brian thinks he's spicy.





	Face painter

"This is fucking ridiculous," Brian muttered angrily to himself, "ridiculous as fuck." He ran a hand over his face and sighed, glancing at the booth for what must have been the fiftieth time in the last half hour.

It was ridiculous because Brian was nineteen years old, ridiculous he was even attending his town's summer carnival, ridiculous that this was the third night in a row he'd come. The field was filled with thirteen-year-olds on 'dates' and screaming children who couldn't manage to reel in a prize at the fishing pool. The smell of fried dough and greasy foods filled the air in a way he found more revolting than tempting. But mainly it was ridiculous because Brian had been contemplating getting his face painted for hours on end every night and still hadn't approached the table.

He could pretend his reservations came from the fact that a majority of the customers were kids getting tiger-stripe patterns or Spider-Man masks painted onto their round faces, but in truth his apprehension stemmed from another source; he would gladly join the queue and chat amongst the young about their chosen decals without shame. No, his apprehension (and the reason he had a sudden burning urge for his face to be used as a canvas) was molded into the form of a young blonde man sitting behind the donation jar.

It was somewhat of a dare the first night. Brian had come with his friend John, chiefly for a laugh and only slightly because, filled with tweens or not, the carnival offered some (albeit piss-poor) form of entertainment in their dull and unchanging hometown.

Anyway, Brian had skidded to a stop as soon as they happened upon the booth. The most magnificent creature he'd ever laid eyes on was painting a delicate pink rose onto a young girl's cheek, smiling when she gasped at the result in the mirror he held up for her. Brian didn't even notice that John had walked on without him, still chatting animatedly to a brunette nowhere near him.

Brian's stomach warmed as he watched this beauty lean in towards who was clearly the girl's brother, telling him he'd gladly paint a rose on his cheek too. The boy seemed shy, eyes lowering to the ground as he - and Brian strained to hear him - asked if only girls could have flowers. Brian's throat tightened as he listened to the blonde reassure the boy that anyone could have a flower, that he himself loved flowers. The sister joined in to encourage him, finally getting a smile out of the kid. "Now, my lad," the face painter said as he straightened up and moved his paint palette closer to the child, "what color rose do you want?"

John had returned somewhere in-between Brian moving around someone blocking his view of the rose's progress and the siblings waving to their artist as they skipped away with two matching roses - one pink and one purple - painted on their cheeks. John examined his friend for a moment before finally a loud "the fuck you doin'?" left his mouth.

"That bloke, you see him right? He's like, a whole 'nother level John. You've got to see him laugh. Just wait, he'll probably do so anytime," Brian breathed, practically floating.

"Jesus, Bri. You've got it bad," was the only response he got, which Brian waved off. "Admit it, if there's one guy you'd try it with, it'd be him." John just rolled his eyes but gave in and observed the man closer.

"He's not…bad I guess. Looks a bit girly. Seems like a nice guy."

Brian just snorted. "Straights, I swear. Should've brought Veronica with me."

John huffed at the mention of his girlfriend, pretending to be offended. "You gunna get your face painted or what?" The shorter man finally asked after a disturbing amount of time watching his friend drink in the new object of his infatuation.

Brian turned, clogs squelching on the damp grass and face aghast, "I can't!"

"I dare you," John smirked. Brian rarely turned down a dare. The twat clearly got off on challenging himself and everyone knew it. The man had done it all, from taking a leak on a fire hydrant to deep-throating a banana. Okay, that last one was more of a self-dare, but amusing all the same.

But for all the year's he'd known Brian, John had never seen him blush like this.

"How could you - you cannot - I will not," Brian sputtered weakly, trying to find a way out of it without tarnishing his reputation. John crossed his arms, smirk deepening. "And I want you to get a unicorn," John added.

Brian swore he could feel sweat pooling in his hairline, clammy palms, mouth drying. He stared hard at the blonde in the booth for a moment before relenting. "Fine… but I get to do it in my own time, and I'm not ready yet." John just rolled his eyes again and dragged Brian off to go on Starship 3000 for their fifth time.

John hadn't bothered coming with Brian after that first night; he'd put up with joining the taller man on his frequent strolls past the booth for the entire evening, but when the carnival was minutes from closing and his friend still hadn't completed the dare, John told Brian to send him a picture if he ever did it.

The second night played out in much the same manner. Brian would walk past the booth, examine the amount of children in line, the work the blonde was currently completing, the sweetness of his voice. Every once and a while the face painter would disappear -presumably on break – and leave Brian in a panic that someone would take his place. He always came back though, all boyish smiles and chatter. Brian never made it up to the chair.

At one point, a dark-haired man with big teeth joined the blonde at the booth for a while, and Brian had enviously watched on as the two laughed together, the dark one even ruffling the blonde's long hair at one point. He let out an audible sigh of relief when another guy came to pick up the blonde's friend, kissing the other man on the cheek. The two of them waved goodbye to the blonde, and Brian watched the blonde call "Bye Fred, bye Jim!" after them, but they only blew the painter kisses in response, leaving Brian with no leads on the blonde's name.

Brian, quite frankly, was shocked he'd managed to go undetected for so long. He hadn't thought he'd been subtle in his staring. For a moment he was sure he made eye contact with 'Fred' could’ve sworn the man smirked at him, but he decided he must have imagined it when the man didn't catch his eye for the rest of his time at the booth. Over and over again, Brian willed himself to just approach the cutie and get his unicorn done, but when he really thought about it, face painting is a very intimate affair. They're leaning close to your face, looking at your face and running a brush over your face. It's usually something small, so you have to stay still. Brian had seen the blonde put his finger under a few chins to keep them steady; his pants tightened a bit at the thought of it being his own chin.

On the third day, today, Brian had arrived early in the afternoon. He realized he hadn't witnessed the painter getting up to go on break or returning from one yet. This was an absurd, for it meant Brian was being deprived of whatever the blonde's legs looked like. He bet they were nice. The man in question was wearing a sleeveless shirt, and Brian had trouble swallowing at the sight of his bicep flexing as he painted.

A man on a mission, Brian sat a picnic table nearby where he could observe the painter undetected; a safe disguise. In the last two hours he'd drank more than enough lemonade, watching the man do face after face. He was actually a very good artist, Brian noted. He put effort into those little designs.

Brian figured the face painter had to be taking a break soon so he got in line to buy an elephant ear, something sweet to eat while he watched the show (the show being the sight of the man getting up from the booth and walking). Brian thought through that reasoning again, muttering about how ridiculous he was being. "Ridiculous as fuck," he repeated, before placing his order and moving to the side to wait for it. Out of habit he glanced at the booth again, only to panic at the sight of an empty chair.

"Figures," he growled to no one in particular, resigning himself to watch intently for the blonde's return.

He took his elephant ear and started making his way back to the table. Someone had sat down at it, on the opposite side of his seat. The stranger's back was to him so he couldn't judge what food they had or how long it would take to eat it. Brian examined the other picnic tables in the area; none offered a good view of the booth. Brian shrugged. He'd just have to share.

As he neared the table however, he realized the table-stealer's hair was long and blonde, face-painting lad blonde. It couldn't be, but it was. Brian froze for a good three minutes, just staring. It was definitely him. He approached cautiously, undecided if he was going to sit or just walk by like he always did.

When Brian was only a few paces away the man turned as if he sensed it, locking eyes with Brian. He'd never seen the painter this close before but god, he was gorgeous. He had the smallest quirk at the corner of his mouth as he addressed Brian: "You finally going to get your face painted?" The blonde questioned, motioning for the other man to sit down. "I've seen you here every night," he continued, smiling gently at the panicked brunette. "Chill man, it's alright. I can give you something cool if you want. An alien maybe, or a UFO."

Brian continued to gape at him, finally taking a seat across from the beauty. "Because your shirt," the blonde explained, motioning to Brian's X-Files tee. "Right," Brian cleared his throat, "I was just…not getting one…because I thought only kids were supposed to!" He weakly tried to explain, earning nothing but another grin from the blonde.

"No worries, I'd love to paint your face. Now come on, you'll be my first customer after my break." He stood, gifting Brian with the view of lean legs displayed immaculately in his tight black skinny jeans. "I have no money for the donation!" Brian babbled, a last-ditch attempt to save himself from the embarrassment that was sure to result if he let the guy paint his face (not to mention the fact the blonde had seen him there every night, watching).

"Nonsense! You can donate a part of your elephant ear to me. Now come on, I'm painting your face."

Brian had no choice but to follow after him, but took the chance to eagerly observe the curve of his ass and the apex of his thighs all the same. How the blonde looked so thin and strong at the same time astounded Brian.

"What would you like?" The face painter asked, already twirling a brush between his fingers. "I'm Roger by the way, " he added.

"Unicorn please," Brian managed to spit out. He would strangle John, he swore. This got a pleased giggle from the blonde though, and he quickly backspaced on that thought; John was a genius.

"Cute. What's your name, then?" Roger asked as he dipped his brush into some white paint. Brian gulped, Roger would be getting very close to him any moment now. "Brian."

"Well Brian, nice to meet you." Roger leaned in, finger finding its way under Brian's chin and tilting his face closer to the tip of the brush. The paint was cold against his cheek, and Brian let out a soft gasp, trying to look away from Roger's concentrated face as he worked on the unicorn.

"So, a unicorn, eh?" Roger's tongue poked out of his mouth and Brian squeezed his eyes shut.

"I'm gay!" Brian flat out blurted.

"In that case, I think I'll give your unicorn a rainbow mane," he grinned and Brian fell in love quicker than anyone in history. "Me too, by the way," he added like it was no big deal. Brian just choked in response.

"What brings you to the carnival?" the blonde asked when it was clear the other man wasn't going to respond. Roger tucked a lose curl that had been dangerously close to catching in the damp paint behind the taller man's ear.

"Bored, I guess," Brian answered, keeping his eyes shut.

"Hmm. Should I be flattered you find me so entertaining then? Three days in a row 'n all." Roger laughed and Brian had to look at him, his blue eyes bringing out the stars despite the sun still shining in the sky. Brian sighed, figuring he had nothing to lose.

"It's definitely a compliment, Roger."

The warmth of the other man's breath hit Brian's neck and curled into the bottom of the brunette's stomach. "Good," he dipped into the purple paint and finished the last section of the mane with a flourish, "all done!" Roger leaned back to examine his work, smiling softly at the other man.

"Can I -"

"Yes," Roger moved towards the other man's face again, glancing at his mouth.

"Can I get a photo?"

"Oh." Roger hadn't been expecting that.

\---

Across town, John's phone chimed. He tugged it from where it had been shoved between the couch cushions. Opening his Snapchat, he grinned at the sight of the photo from Brian. He was sharing a seat with the blonde face painter, both of them sticking their tongues out at the camera, Brian with a beautiful, multicolor-maned unicorn on his cheek. He was about to respond when another photo came through, this one at an awkward angle given how Brian's arm must have been stretched to take it. It was blurry but obviously depicted the two men kissing, Roger's hand tangled in Brian's curls. 'CHEERS JOHN', the caption read and he let out a surprised snort.

John quickly opened up the chat and messaged Brian: 'Stop sending me NSFW photos, I'm blocking you!'

**Author's Note:**

> as always, i'm a slut for comments.


End file.
